


Wait for the Aftermath

by stardropdream



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Episode Related, Grief/Mourning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 15:07:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11716890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: Afterwards, Aramis finds Porthos. (coda fic for 3x09)





	Wait for the Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to tumblr in response to a prompt for "Aramis is the one to tell Porthos about Treville’s death. Porthos needs comforting."

In truth, Aramis doesn’t have to say anything for Porthos to know. He sees the way Porthos holds his shoulders, that hopeful little glance he cants Aramis’ way – and sees the exact moment when Porthos locks eyes with him and that small hopefulness wilts right out of his expression. At once, Porthos sags and seems to age several years, that steady weight of understanding. 

Aramis, who cried as Treville died, doesn’t know if he has any tears left, but he feels the scratch in his throat, the prickle at the back of his eyes. He doesn’t cry, doesn’t let himself cry – and instead moves over to meet Porthos. Porthos says nothing, his expression flickering – and does not protest when Aramis collects him into his arms. 

It isn’t until Porthos slumps against him a little, isn’t until he heaves up the softest of breaths, that sad prelude into a sob, that Aramis realizes that, yes, he is crying. He doesn’t start until he hears Porthos’ hitching breath, that small little gasp as he starts to cry in Aramis’ arms. 

They say nothing, and soon Porthos’ arms wrap loosely around Aramis in turn – and they hold each other and they weep. Aramis hiccups out a soft breath, tries to regain control, his heart heavy and thinking only of Porthos in this moment, needing to comfort him, needing to hold him, needing to make it better – and knowing that he can’t.

He runs his hands over his back, cradles him a little, or as best as he can. His vision is swimming with tears but he focuses on the heaving bulk of Porthos’ sadness and grief in his arms – holds him tight, doesn’t care that they’re outside. Just needs to hold him. To comfort him. To let him know that he is love, that he is not alone, that he is not abandoned in this sadness. 

“Porthos,” he whispers, voice pained against the shell of Porthos’ ear.

Porthos doesn’t respond, not in words. He does squeeze Aramis tighter, though – draws him in close. Aramis closes his eyes and feels himself slump against him, exhausted with worry, with grief, with that bitter pit of unhappiness – everything that’s happened, everything that will happen now. 

“I’m here,” he tells him and knows it’s inadequate, but at least it is something. He can only hope it can maybe be enough, for this moment. 

Porthos breathes out, shaky, and answers, “I know.”

And that, at least, has to be enough.


End file.
